A Rose Without a Thorn
by TheRealRenee
Summary: // Chapter 15 now up \\ Amy gets much unexpected, yet much needed, help to escape her abusive relationship... Lita/Edge, Jericho, Stacy/Christian, Hardys, Stephanie, possible others. Set during early September 2001, right after SummerSlam
1. Chapter 1

The young woman sobbed, her tears an equal mixture of pain and fear as she gazed up at him pleadingly.

"You little bitch!" the man screamed, and she winced at the sharpness of his voice. It actually frightened her far worse when he would call her names or threaten her in softer tones. A few weeks earlier, he'd whispered something in her ear that had so terrified her that she'd been shaking the entire rest of that night.

"I...I-I didn't do anything!" she cried.

"Liar!" He quickly followed that single word with a strong backhand, catching her in the left underside of her jaw. Her teeth clacked together noisily, and she was fortunate to have not bitten her tongue.

She raised a hand to her face, feeling the way the tender flesh was quickly swelling as she stared up at him with tear-filled hazel eyes, her lips and chin quivering.

"I-I didn't..."

"Shut up!" the man shouted. "I don't want to hear any of your bullshit excuses! I _saw _you with my own two eyes! I saw how chummy you were acting with those two - you fucking _whore_!"

"We're only friends!" she insisted, cringing as she recalled the look in his eyes when he'd stepped into the Hardy Boyz's locker room and seen her there with them. Since she was a part of Team Xtreme, and because Matt and Jeff were her best friends, she'd been visiting with them for awhile - rather than immediately returning to the women's locker room after their match. The man tormenting her - her _boyfriend _- had entered the room without so much as a knock, and he'd caught her laughing it up with the two North Carolinians, an arm thrown around each brother. It had all been very innocent, but _he_ didn't care and had his own ideas...

"'Only friends,' huh?" he taunted. "Yeah, sure...How many years have you known them now? Seven, eight? I'll bet you've spread your legs for the both of them too many times to count! I'll bet you've given both of them a lot of good rides, haven't you?? You _slut_!"

"No! W-Why do you have to do this? Why do you have to be so...cruel to me?" she begged, raising her head a bit as she dared to meet his hard, cold crystal-blue eyes.

"_Someone _has to keep you in line!" he spat, one corner of his mouth arching up into a nasty sneer. "And I _do _so enjoy having that honor..."

The young woman bowed her head so that her long red hair brushed against her knees, which were drawn tightly up to her chest.

"So, what _were_ you thinking about when you were acting so chummy with the Hardys?" the man demanded, his voice taking on an even sharper tone.

She shut her eyes tightly at his obvious anger. Usually, this man displayed only one side of himself to the rest of the world - he cleverly hid behind a humorous facade, as though he took everything in life lightly and with stride, but that was only the side of him that he wanted the public to behold. In reality, he was cold, calculating, sadistic, and thorougly enjoyed tormenting and humiliating her.

The redhead bit back the comeback that suddenly popped into her head at his last question. She knew that if she spoke it aloud to him, his reaction would be anything but in her favor - and she knew exactly what he would do to punish her for it. She'd learned the hard way - a few times in the beginning, when he'd first started showing her this ugly, abusive side of himself, she'd hurled plenty of comebacks at him, and he'd beaten her so severely that she'd been unable to sit properly the following day. She quickly learned that it wasn't worth shouting back at him, because the repercussions were far worse when she did...

"_Answer_ me, God damn it! Don't just sit there pretending not to hear or see me - _answer _me, you little slut!"

She looked up, her eyes widening with fright as he suddenly approached where she sat on the bed. Instinctively, she rose both hands to protect her face as he made a move for her. She expected him to hit her immediately, but he didn't, instead grabbing a handful of her T-shirt and hefting her up out of the bed and onto her feet before him.

"P-please!" she pleaded, her head slightly down as her hazel eyes remained fixed to his angry face. "D-don't hit me anymore...I can't take anymore!"

"Tough shit, baby..." He shook her roughly by her shirt, as his hands were still clutching at it, before shoving her into the desk chair beside the bed. She let out a tiny yelp of pain as she lost her balance and began to fall, for her head connected with the wooden furniture, and she knew she was going to develop a bump because of it.

Before she had a chance to get to her feet, his hands were roughly on her again, yanking her up and shoving at her, and she backed away in fear until her back was touching the closed bathroom door.

"Think you're real cute, don't ya?!" he shouted, his teeth clenched and his right hand balled into a fist. "Well, if you refuse to answer my question, you're gonna have to answer to something else..."

The woman's eyes widened. Oh, God... She was terrified he was going to force himself on her. He'd done _that_ a few times before, too. Oh, no... He was undoing his belt. Oh, God... He _was _going to rape her...

She realized she'd been wrong in her assessment when her boyfriend suddenly swung the thick leather strap at her. She ducked her head, her arms going up and around her face to protect it, and his laughter was sickening as he lashed out at her a second, then third time.

She began to scream, but he reached out and punched her in the head, cutting off her voice. She felt momentarily dizzy for a few seconds before she felt the sting of the makeshift whip again. Oh, God... The pain was so great she felt as though she might pass out if she didn't get away from him.

The young woman frantically turned her back, and she knew she was opening herself up to being beaten on her back and buttocks, but she had no other choice. A short cry escaped her as she felt the metal buckle of the belt bite painfully into the right side of the middle of her torso, near her waist.

Momentarily ignoring her myriad of pains, including this new, worst one, she quickly reached down for the knob on the door of the lavatory, yanking it open. She ran inside, the tears still streaming down her face in droves as she shoved it into his face. The bastard... He was pushing on the door, shoving his right hand through it. She had to stop him from getting in there. She knew she would never be able to match him in physical strength, so she had to rely on other things...

Reacting instinctively, the redhead dared to move her face closer to the door, to his hand, and she bit down on it as hard as she could manage. He pulled back, letting out a bellow of pain and anger, and for a split second, she felt a tiny measure of relief. However, there were more important things than this tiny victory to concentrate on right now. She shoved the bathroom door shut, her hands instantly lowering to the lock, which she clicked into place.

As she heard her boyfriend yelling and cursing in the other room, then banging hard on the door, she backed away from it until her back touched the shower door. Her tears were still coming fast, and she whimpered as she stared at the closed door.

"Oh, God...Oh, God..." She couldn't stop shaking... But for now, she was safe. And she would stay locked in the sanctuary that was this bathroom all _night_ if she had to...

Part 2

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	2. Chapter 2

Amy Dumas finally felt her heartbeat slowing to a more steady pace, her breathing returning to normal.

She crept closer to the locked bathroom door, listening for any sounds. It had been silent in the hotel room for at least the last hour or so. Before that, he'd kept yelling at her, issuing cruel threats which she knew he'd try to turn into promises. And then he'd finally given up, telling her to rot in here. Then, after a couple more obscenties hurled her way, he'd stormed out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Amy swallowed hard, a cold knot of fear in her belly as she fiddled with the lock on the door. Then, holding her breath, she turned the knob, her eyes closing as she pushed the door open slowly.

The redhead's eyes snapped open as she realized the room was enveloped in complete darkness. He'd shut the light off when he'd left.

Oh, God... What if he was here, hiding out in wait for her? What if he was crouched behind the bed, where she couldn't see him, waiting to pounce on her?

Oh, my God... She had to get out of here. She felt like an animal trapped in a cage.

She stepped out of the bathroom in a hurry, crying out as she felt the myriad of aches and pains from the abuse he'd dished out to her earlier. The worst of them was when the gash in her side pulled painfully. There hadn't been any salve or anything in the lavatory that she could have used, so she'd merely cleaned the wound with a wet washcloth and soap. Amazingly, despite the size of the bruise, she'd gotten it to stop bleeding pretty quickly.

She didn't bother with the lights, as her only intention was getting the hell out of there in a hurry. By now, it was obvious he wasn't here.

The redhead gritted her teeth as she blindly felt around on the floor near the bed for her bag. She was glad it was zippered, and she let out a gasp of pain as she lifted the valise, putting the strap up on her shoulder.

Amy counted her lucky stars that, somehow, the lashing belt hadn't made contact with either one of her shoulders - hence the reason she was pretty much all right to carry her bag.

She walked briskly over to the door, feeling her way around in the darkness. Although she knew she was leaving behind a few of her garments and other stuff like toiletries, she didn't care - all she wanted to do was get the hell out of this room. She dreaded him coming back to find her making an escape. If _that _happened, he would make her hurt ten times worse than he already had.

Stepping out into the hallway, the diva glanced around furtively, cautiously making certain that he didn't just so happen to be lurking around. He was nowhere in sight, not that _she _could see, at least. She guessed he was probably out at some bar somewhere.

Amy made a near-mad dash down the hallway, wanting to get as far from her own hotel room as possible. She stopped at a door, realizing this was a room that one of her friends was staying in, and she knew it contained two beds. She didn't have to think long about what she was going to do...

The redhead raised a hand to knock, rapping firmly on the door five times with her knuckles. _Come on..._Please _answer, please be awake! _she thought.

Within a minute or so, she heard the lock being turned on the other side of the door, and her heart nearly stopped with relief as it suddenly opened.

"Hey! Amy, what are you doing out here so late?" Stacy Keibler asked as she gazed out at her. Her smile faded as she took note of the worry etched on the other woman's face, the bag she clutched over one shoulder. Without asking any questions, she reached out and put an arm around her other shoulder, quickly ushering the redhead inside her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

Neither woman noticed the man watching them, concern crossing his handsome features as he neared his own hotel room from just a few feet down the hallway.

Part 3

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	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, my God..." Stacy breathed as she looked her friend over.

Amy was a mess. She'd obviously been crying, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed, but that was nothing compared to the bruises the tall blonde woman was easily able to detect. Amy was wearing a short, midriff-type halter top, and there were a few red blotches showing on her tender flesh.

One welt in particular, on the diva's right side, in the back rib area, stood out the most. The bruise was darkening to an ugly, mottled purplish color.

"Oh, God!" Stacy cried again. "He did this to you, didn't he? That _bastard_!" Her brown eyes narrowed with contempt as she thought about the man. She didn't know him too well, as she'd only joined the WWF a mere four months ago, when Shane McMahon had bought WCW, but she now knew enough that she wanted Amy - and all the other divas - to stay the hell away from him.

The frightened redhead cringed, lowering her head, unable to meet her friend's eyes. However, she didn't dare to deny the allegations Stacy had just put forth.

"Listen to me, Amy," the tall blonde said. "He has _no _right to put his hands on you! You have to report him!"

"I-I...can't," the distraught, battered woman finally spoke in a soft, weak voice. A single tear escaped her right eye, sliding slowly down her cheek.

Stacy winced, shaking her head as she eyed her friend and fellow diva with sympathy. After a beat, she grasped the other woman's hand, leading her to the bathroom. "Come on, let's clean you up a little..." The leggy blonde had noticed that the bad bruise, the one on Amy's side, looked as though it were about to seep. Her guess was that the redhead had not put any antiseptic on it.

Amy followed Stacy into the small bathroom and stood beside her at the sink. Not a single word did she utter as she taller woman quietly tended to her.

Adam Copeland returned to his hotel room worried and puzzling over what he'd seen only moments earlier.

The tall blond man sat down on the edge of his bed as he replayed in his mind the scene he'd just witnessed. He and some friends had been downstairs in the hotel bar, unwinding after RAW earlier that night. Adam had become tired after awhile and decided to go up to the room he and best friend Jay Reso were sharing - although their characters, Edge and Christian, had just split as a team earlier that night, the two Canadians were still rooming together.

Adam had to pass by Stacy Keibler's room to get to his own, and it just so happened that, _this _time, she'd had a visitor at the door.

Amy Dumas, better know as Lita in the ring, the female member of Team Xtreme - had been standing just outside Stacy's door, and she'd appeared positively terrified. Adam could even swear she'd been shaking. And while he hadn't quite been close enough to get a good look at her, the redhead had looked like she'd been hurt.

The tall blond man wondered - he really wondered what had happened. He'd wanted to stand there in the shadows in the corridor and make out the conversation between Amy and Stacy - not to be nosy, but because he was extremely concerned - but the two women had instantly gone into the hotel room, shutting the door behind them.

Adam supposed that the redhead had gotten into a pretty bad argument with her boyfriend. He knew they sometimes fought, as he'd overheard them arguing a few times in the not so recent past when he and Jay had roomed on the same floor as them. Their room had been several doors down the hall from Amy and the man's, and they'd heard them.

He wondered if he would be able to hear their voices if he were to stand close to the door, as Stacy's room was almost directly across from his. Yet, at the same time, he didn't want to eavesdrop, as though he had no life. He had right to intrude upon either woman's privacy - which was exactly what he would be doing if he deliberately tried to hear what they were saying to each other.

Adam decided he would just get ready for bed, as he'd intended to do when he'd returned to this room. And he would keep his eyes and ears open the next time he saw Amy Dumas. She was a good friend, so maybe he would be able to find out what was going on.

A few minutes later, after he'd washed up and brushed his teeth for bed, he slipped into his hotel room bed. Then, reaching over the nightstand, he shut off the bedside lamp and stretched out on the bed.

The last thought he had before falling asleep was of the redhead. His subconscious was nagging him about something where she was concerned, but he couldn't quite grasp it.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Amy sat morosely in the passenger's seat of Stacy Keibler's rental car. She was distracted, lost in her thoughts as the tall blonde sat in the driver's seat, steering the car with expert precision. 

Neither woman spoke for the longest time as they traveled. They were on their way to the next town, and would stop over at the hotel before heading to the arena. 

Stacy glanced at Amy as she braked for a red light, a feeling of sympathy rushing through her as she caught the expression on the other diva's face. 

"I know this is probably a really stupid question," the leggy blonde began, "but...are you okay?" 

The redhead raised her slightly bowed head to meet Stacy's eyes. "Yeah," she finally said. "I was just...thinking - wondering, actually." She winced, as the bruises she'd received the previous night were still fresh. The one on her waist-rib area was particularly tender. Although Stacy had applied antiseptic to it, it still pulled painfully. And the redheaded diva knew she had a match later that night for the SmackDown taping. Damn it... _How _was she going to pull _that _off? 

She didn't even know who her partner would be, let alone who her opponents were. She only hoped that, whoever they ended up being, they would all be sympathetic - or at least understanding if she was sluggish in the ring... Not that she was going to tell any of them about her predicament. She'd almost been too ashamed to go to her friend's room the previous night. 

"Are you...still aching?" Stacy asked tentatively, wincing as she thought of all the bruises her friend had sustained, all the abuse she'd endured at the hands of the man who was supposed to cherish her. She couldn't even begin to fathom being in Amy's shoes. 

"A little," the redhead lied. In actuality, she still hurt quite a lot, and particularly from that one really bad welt. She had to make certain to wear a top that would conceal the damn thing later that night when she had her match. She couldn't afford to let anyone see it. Who knew what might happen if someone did? She didn't want to consider the consequences... 

Then, as though reading her thoughts, Stacy said, "You have a match tonight, don't you?" 

"Yeah." 

"Oh, Amy...Maybe you should ask to be taken out of it," the blonde said, her brown eyes flooded with concern. "No offense, but you're not really in any condition to be wrestling tonight, " she continued. "I'm sure Trish could take your place in the match." 

"N-no..." the redhead stuttered and looked up at Stacy fearfully. "If I pull out of the match...I'd have to...explain." 

"Well, you _should _explain! You can't let him keep getting away with...this!" She gestured to the bruise on the other woman's face, just on Amy's left cheekbone, where he'd punched her. Stacy had helped her cover it up with concealer, but it was still slightly visible. 

The redhead raised a hand to her face, unconsciously pressing it to the bruise. She knew the blonde woman was right, but she was terrified of speaking up... 

Who was she kidding? She couldn't even kid herself about this anymore - she was deathly afraid... Amy feared for her life about someone possibly catching on. That was why she refused to speak out against her boyfriend's abuse - she was terrified that, one day, he might actually _kill _her. Because of that, she would continue to keep silent... 


	5. Chapter 5

Amy sat morosely in the locker room she and Stacy were sharing.

She'd already dressed for her match, and she was feeling relieved that she wasn't sharing a locker room with _all _the divas. Although she was friends with several of them, she didn't want them to see her like this - and she didn't want them to know what she was going through, anyway.

Amy closed her eyes as she thought about how furious her boyfriend must have been when he'd returned to their hotel room - whether sometime last night or that morning - to find her gone. She knew he had to be furious and that he would take revenge for it.

The redhead's eyes gazed ahead at nothing far, far away as she feared competing in her match for the night. A few minutes earlier, she'd discovered she would be teaming up with Edge to take on Christian and Ivory of the Alliance. She wondered how in hell she was going to get through the match. Although Adam Copeland, Jay Reso and Lisa Moretti were all friends of hers, she didn't want to have to face them. Hell, it had taken all of the sheer will she possessed for her to go to Stacy's room for sanctuary the night before - but she felt she'd had no other choice.

"Are you going to be all right?" the tall blonde woman asked as she stepped away from the vanity mirror, a tube of lipstick in her right hand. She eyed her friend with concern, dropping the cosmetic and coming to sit beside her.

Stacy placed one hand on Amy's as she peered into her face. "Looks like we did a good job with the concealer," the leggy diva observed. She knew the last thing the redhead wanted was for her bruises to show while she was expected out there for the intergender tag match. The worst bruise, the gash on Amy's side, shouldn't prove to be a problem, but the one on her face had been quite noticeable - and in fact had darkened a bit since last night.

The redhead remained silent, noticing how the blonde diva's expression grew somewhat sadder at her lack of response to her question and comment. But she didn't feel too badly about that, knowing that Stacy understood how she was feeling.

As Amy continued to watch the TV monitor in front of which she sat, she twisted her hands in her lap. Although she adored wrestling, she didn't want to take part in the show tonight. She was in no shape to compete - not physically _or _mentally. And emotionally, she could see herself suddenly breaking down in the middle of the ring. With the way she was feeling right now, she didn't need anyone hitting her or tossing her into the ropes or anything like that.

All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door, and both women looked up, the redhead cringing somewhat at the thought of who might be behind the other side. Stacy looked into her face with concern for a beat before rising to her feet and walking over.

At another glance at her friend, she didn't dare open the door before finding out who was paying them a visit.

"Who is it?"

"It's Adam - I've got a match with Amy tonight!" came the reply.

Stacy let out a small sigh of relief at the identity of the visitor, then turned to glance at the redhead over her shoulder as she opened the door.

The tall handsome blond man, already dressed in his in-ring gear, peered past Stacy into the room. "Hi...I was just wondering if she was ready - we're up next." He caught sight of the high-flying redheaded diva and smiled warmly. "Hey..."

Amy met his eyes almost bashfully, her head ducking somewhat. "Hi..." she replied in a soft voice, unable to smile. Her gaze shifted slightly down.

The Canadian frowned as a myriad of thoughts ran through his mind. What was going on with this woman? But instead of voicing any of his concerns, he turned to face Stacy, offering her a grin. "Everything cool in here?" he asked.

"Um...yeah," the leggy blonde said. "We're just getting ready for the show tonight." Her gaze shifted somewhat, the smile on her face wavering a bit.

Adam instantly noticed the discomfort among the two women in the room. Hell, how could he _not_? It was absolutely palpable. He recalled the strangeness of the previous night, when he'd caught Amy going into Stacy's room. Again, he wondered what was going on and sensed that it wasn't anything good.

"Okay...Well, are you ready for our match?" the blond Canadian man asked as he shifted his gaze to the redhead.

Amy ran her hand through her long hair and sighed as she stood up. Nodding, she met his eyes. "Yeah...I guess I am." She forced a smile for his benefit as she walked over to him.

Adam watched her intently as she stepped past him and Stacy and out into the hallway. He couldn't help the concern that flooded him at her obvious lack of disinterest.

He followed her over to the curtain leading out to the arena, and they stood there in silence for a beat as the tall blond man studied her intently. He tried to be as discreet as possible in his scrutiny, but it was difficult, given the fact that the redhead was standing right in front of him.

After a moment, he frowned at the way she kept her head down, arms crossed protectively over her chest. "Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

Amy looked up at him reluctantly, something like surprise registering on her pretty face. "Yeah...I'm...fine. Yeah."

Adam cocked his head to one side as he continued to stare at her. All of a sudden, he thought he detected something strange about her face. A portion of her left cheek seemed to be slightly miscolored. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, and, reaching out with his right hand, he allowed his fingertips to just brush her face.

The redhead shrank back at his gentle touch, ducking her head again, and the Canadian's concerned, confused frown deepened. She seemed positively terrified, and he found that odd, as he'd never once done anything to scare or upset her in any way. They'd been friends for the last year and some odd months, although they hadn't spent much time together as of late - but still, Adam had never given Amy any reason to fear him.

And then it occurred to him that maybe it wasn't _him _that she was afraid of - maybe it was just men in general...

They both missed the crystal blue eyes of the man watching them from several feet away, down the hall. He stared at them for a moment, a gleam of fury in his eyes. Then, after the two of them started making their way through the curtain to enter the arena, his expression still hard and cold, Chris Jericho turned and stalked back to his locker room.


	6. Chapter 6

Adam watched Amy cautiously as she grappled in the middle of the ring with Ivory.

So far, the match seemed to be going fairly well, and the redhead seemed to be able to put whatever fears she had aside.

Lita executed a smooth, effortless-looking tilt-a-whirl slam on the other woman, who then quickly rolled to her corner.

As Ivory put out a hand to tag to Christian, the redheaded diva grabbed her ankle in an attempt to prevent the tag. The brunette, however, managed a spinning heelkick to Lita - but rather than getting her in the side of the head, she made contact with the side of the woman's _torso_.

Amy dropped to the canvas in pain so great, she actually saw stars for a moment. She pressed her arm tightly against her injured side - it hurt where she'd been cut open the previous night - where Ivory's kick had landed.

As she looked up, she saw Jay hovering over her, still obviously in Christian mode, as he evidently hadn't noticed anything awry. His blue eyes took on an almost manic quality as he grabbed hold of her, lifting her up by her long red hair.

On the other side, Adam was trying to get into the ring, yelling and protesting to the referee. He seemed pretty angry, and she wasn't quite sure he was still in the character of Edge.

All of a sudden, the blond man who had her in his grasp executed a reverse suplex, planting the diva on her back. Again, Amy felt pain shooting through her.

Adam's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the fallen redhead. She appeared to be in pain - very _real _pain, and had ever since Lisa had kicked her in the side. Concerned, he shoved past the referee, enraged that the official couldn't see what was going on, and kneeled at the diva's side.

Oh, God... There was fresh blood seeping through the stark white belly shirt she was wearing - high up, about three inches beneath her right breast.

Damn it...

Jay too was suddenly aware of the injury, and a look of confusion and concern took form in his blue eyes. Adam could tell his best friend was wondering whether or not the match should continue. They'd both wrestled to the conclusion of contests with injuries, as had the redhead - who could forget the horrible cut she'd received against Ivory at Survivor Series last year? The entire left side of her face had been bloody.

Finally, the referee called for the bell. The tall blond man was only partly relieved by that, for, as he examined the redhead, he could plainly see the bruises...

There were several of them. And damn it, as he gently raised the corner of her shirt to examine the gash that was bleeding, he could tell that it wasn't fresh. No - at the sight of the wound, it appeared that she'd suffered this bruise at least a day before.

_A day before_...

Adam quickly made up his mind as the horrifying thoughts went through his mind. Gently, he picked the diva up off the canvas, and as gently as possible, he walked her to the ropes. The referee, Jay and Lisa were right behind them, watching with concern.

The redhead clung onto his arm in an attempt to keep upright - and maybe to lean on someone strong for her own sake.

The Canadian briefly turned his head toward her as he gingerly supported her, taking care not to touch the nasty-looking injury on her side. As he peered with concern into her face, he took note of the left cheekbone. Earlier, as they'd been backstage together, waiting for their entrance, he'd thought it odd that her face had seemed slightly miscolored in that area. Now he knew why, and a cold, unpleasant knot clutched his stomach.

While the redhead had been in the ring with Ivory, her makeup had run a bit while she'd been sweating. It had been concealer, or foundation - it had been caked on the left side of her face, obviously to cover up the darkening bruise he could now more clearly see.

Adam knew exactly what he was going to do. As they reached the backstage area, he brought the redhead directly to his locker room rather than to her own.

"I'm taking you to the emergency room," he announced.

Amy looked up at him fearfully, wanting to ask why, but she knew she didn't have to question him. She swallowed hard, not daring to speak a word to protest. He sounded so firm, so final in his decision.

She wondered, consumed with a feeling of horror, what Chris would do if he found her with Adam...


	7. Chapter 7

Adam raked his hand through his long hair as he paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room.

He was feeling nervous as hell. He'd brought the redhead to the emergency room just under an hour earlier, and he had yet to receive word on her condition.

Damn it... He'd been in the emergency room with Amy earlier, seated at her bedside as they'd waited for a doctor to check on her. Finally, when one had come over for that, he'd been told to wait out here.

Adam couldn't sit still, so he'd opted instead to get up and pace.

He supposed he was making the other people in the waiting room nervous - but damn it, he didn't _care_. Besides, he couldn't help it.

"Mr. Copeland?"

The tall blond man looked up at the sound of the voice, noticing the doctor who'd come to examine Amy. He walked directly over to the man, relieved.

"How is she?"

"She's lucky she's not in worse shape than she is," said the physician, whose name Adam saw from the name tag pinned on his long white coat, was Dr. John Winters. "She has some contusions, as you obviously know, and we had to put some stitches on the laceration on her side."

"Oh, God..." the blond man muttered, lifting his hand to his mouth.

"She's quite traumatized," Dr. Winters said. "Given what she's endured, that's not surprising." His gaze hardened as he continued to look at Adam. "I would suggest you get yourself some help, Mr. Copeland - before you end up _killing _her."

The Canadian's eyes widened as he realized that the man thought _he _had brutalized Amy.

"Doctor, you don't understand... _I'm _not the one who did that to her...I'm not her boyfriend."

Winters' expression changed somewhat as he continued to regard the young man. "You're not her boyfriend?"

"No - I'm just a friend. I saw her bleeding earlier tonight, and she was obviously in pain. That was when I brought her here," he explained.

"I'm terribly sorry," the physician apologized. "Miss Dumas would not speak a word. I just assumed..."

Adam shook his head. "That's all right...and I know - she wouldn't say anything to me, either. But I know who did that to her..." His green eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about Chris Jericho. Damn him to hell!

"I would suggest Amy press charges against the person who beat her. As I tried to explain while administering to her, a lot of women in her predicament end up a lot worse than she is right now."

The tall Canadian nodded, his eyes serious, his mouth gone dry. "I...I know. I'll...try to talk to her. Maybe her friend Stacy can help convince her," he added. "She went to a female friend last night," he explained. "I was returning to my hotel room and saw her going into Stacy's room. I assume she stayed there."

"Well, if you and this Stacy can help her, that would be a very good thing. She needs all the friends and support she can get right now."

Adam nodded again and ran a hand through his long blond hair.

"I'll help her in any way I can," he promised.


	8. Chapter 8

Adam gazed at the woman who was currently asleep on the spare bed in his hotel room.

She looked angelic, and surprisingly peaceful despite the visible bruises marring her delicate skin. Her long red hair was somewhat fanned around her head like a halo, adding to her already angelic look.

The tall blond man's heart caught at the plight Amy had endured. Damn it, life was so unfair. Actually, screw that - life just plain sucked.

He'd brought the injured redhead back from the hospital less than an hour earlier. She'd claimed exhaustion, which he found no surprise given everything she'd been through - not to mention the fact that she'd actually wrestled in her current condition.

The moment they'd entered the room, Amy had gone to the second bed, removed her shoes and curled up beneath the blanket. Within minutes, she'd fallen asleep.

As Adam continued to watch her, he marveled at the fact that she was not having anymore gruesome nightmares. He suspected her sleep was often filled with the monster that was her boyfriend - Chris Jericho.

The tall Canadian's expression became a fierce scowl as he thought about the other blond man. Ever since bringing Amy to the emergency room, he'd entertained about a million thoughts of violence - most of them involving his fist and Jericho's smug face.

He couldn't believe the nerve, the sheer cowardice of the other man. Hell, he'd once considered Chris one of his best friends. Of course, that had been before the man had begun acting so strangely. He'd basically alienated himself from most of his friends. That in itself was something Adam would easily be able to forgive - but putting your hands on a woman in violence was an entirely different story. He thought he'd rather sooner kill the man than allow him to hurt Amy again.

As Adam suddenly recalled his brief conversation with the doctor who'd attended to the redhead, he stood up. There was something he needed to do, and it was urgent.

Casting one long last glance at the sleeping diva to be sure she was all right, he turned and made him way to the door. Once out in the hallway, he turned and went directly across to Stacy Keibler's room. As he knocked, he found himself hoping the leggy blonde was there and not out.

Adam heard a soft click and realized the diva was checking through her peephole to see who was paying her a visit. _Smart woman_, he thought. Chris Jericho could very easily have figured out that Amy had run to Stacy for help, and the leggy blonde obviously knew this and wasn't taking any chances.

The door opened, and the blonde diva blinked at Adam with a look of concern on her face.

"A-Adam...Hi."

"Hi, Stacy...Is it okay if I come in for awhile? We really need to talk..."

"Sure..." The tall blonde stepped aside to allow the Canadian entrance into the room, and Adam was taken aback when he saw that Stacy was not alone but actually had company.

"Hey, man..."

"What are _you _doing here?"

Jay Reso stood up from the desk chair upon which he'd been sitting and went before his best friend. He glanced at Stacy for a beat before speaking.

"Well, after our match earlier, Stacy came to me very upset. We tried to find out from officials where you'd brought Amy, but no one knew. Either that, or else they were keeping it a huge secret or something..."

Stacy, who, like Jay, was still fully dressed despite the late hour, eyed Adam almost pleadingly.

"How is she?"

"She's battered and bruised, but sleeping peacefully now. Hopefully, she remains that way all night," he replied.

The blonde woman winced, appearing nearly at the brink of tears.

"Damn him to hell..." she muttered.

"Listen...Stacy," the taller of the two blond men began after a beat. "We have to do something to help her..."

The diva's brown eyes widened slightly. "I'm all for helping Amy," she said in a soft voice. "She's...she's my best friend..." Stacy's voice became choked with the last two words, and abruptly, she broke down, the tears streaming down her face in droves, sobs escaping her. She raised one hand to her mouth in a futile effort to stifle her cries.

Jay instantly went to the tall blonde, wrapping his arms around her slender waist, his cheek resting against her fine long hair.

"Shh...It'll be all right, Stace...We're gonna help her - all three of us." He shifted his gaze to meet that of his best friend.

Adam's green eyes were somber, but he nodded firmly. Yes, they _were_ going to help Amy - and he took solace in the fact that there was safety in numbers.


	9. Chapter 9

Chris Jericho stumbled, drunk, into his hotel room hours after RAW.

He stood in his tracks as he examined the interior of the room. Amy was nowhere to be seen - nor were there any traces of her. He wondered where his mouthy bitch of a girlfriend could be.

"Amy! Amy!!" he shouted, annoyed that the redhead wasn't here and that he couldn't pinpoint her exact location. He thought that, once he found her, he very well might just belt her in the mouth or blacken one of her pretty eyes.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes, Chris suddenly decided to take a different tack.

"Amy...Baby, where are you?" He made his voice as syrupy as he could, thinking that if he sounded sweet and loving, the woman would come out from her hiding place - if she was indeed hiding somewhere here. The way _he_ figured it, she very well might be... Maybe she was hiding in the bathroom.

"Honey...Come on, I'm not gonna hurt you - I promise..." Chris continued. "I _love_ you, baby...you know I never mean the things I say or do...The _last_ thing I want is to hurt you..."

Jericho rose from the bed in his socks, stumbling over his own feet as he edged toward the bathroom door.

"Amy? Baby, answer me..." He pressed his cheek against the door, his left hand going up as well to caress the door.

"Sweetie...?"

Still, there was no response. All was silent.

"Damn it..." Chris muttered between clenched teeth. He hated it when she got like this, and he didn't have the patience for it. He hated being ignored - he _wouldn't_ be ignored. Well, he'd give her another thirty or so seconds...

"What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with you?!" he screamed. He began to pound on the door with both fists, his long blond hair flying as he shook his head wildly to accompany his hand movements.

Once he was composed enough to stop the banging, Chris reached down and tested the knob. It gave way, and he shoved the door open with his shoulder.

"Aha!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the four walls of the small lavatory. His voice died away as he took in the interior of the room, his clear blue eyes blinking rapidly.

She wasn't there...

"Shit!"

And then, in his drunken haze, he suddenly remembered...

She'd had a match earlier that night, teaming up with Adam Copeland. The tall blond man had been tending to Amy in the ring after she'd collapsed. He'd brought her to the back, and then to the hospital.

Damn that man to hell!

Chris' breathing was heavy and ragged as he felt the rage within him boil to the surface. In one swift move, he smashed his right fist into the vanity mirror above the sink, the shards scattering all over.

He didn't even feel the pain - his fury was _that_ great.

As he stared at his reflection in a jagged remnant of the mirror that was left on the vanity, he vowed revenge - on Amy _and_ on Copeland...


	10. Chapter 10

Amy wasn't quite sure what had woken her up. She bolted up in the bed, terror gripping her as she glanced around the hotel room.

She ached all over... God, it hurt. But she was confused. Where was she? This wasn't her hotel room. And then, after a few seconds of recollecting, she remembered...

... Adam. He'd brought her to the hospital after their mixed tag match against Jay and Lisa - and then back to his hotel room. She was safe.

_Safe_... The word echoed hollowly through her head. It was a concept she barely comprehended anymore. She glanced around the room again, spotting barely any of her own things but seeing a lot of Adam's. And then she remembered she'd run to Stacy's room the past night - the rest of her stuff was probably still with the leggy blonde. But... where was Adam? He wasn't here.

The redhead began to settle back in the bed again, her heart thumping hard at the fear of being left all alone when she suddenly heard a noise. It was coming from the hallway, on the other side of the door. A small, almost tentative knocking. She would have thought she was imagining it, but then it grew slightly louder. And then...

"Amy?" the voice nearly whispered. "Are you in there?"

She shot up in the bed in a sitting position, crawling backward at the sound. How had he found out she was here?! And where the hell was Adam? A quick glance at the hotel bathroom door told her he wasn't in there, as the door was wide open and nothing but darkness spilled from that room. Oh, God, he'd gone out, and it had been at that precise moment that Chris had decided to come for her! She would be a sitting duck if he somehow managed to get into this room!

"I want to talk to you, sweetness..." Jericho's voice issued from the other side of the door.

The fine hairs on the back of Amy's neck stood erect as she felt chilled to the bone. His voice was dripping with tenderness, but it was all a facade. Chris Jericho didn't hold one iota of tenderness for her - not anymore, and never again. She knew that if he got his hands on her again, it could very well be the last time - and her last breath.

"Come on, Amy - open the door," Chris called. "I know you're in there, and I know you're alone." The redhead could practically hear the sarcastic grin on the blond man's face as he continued. "Do I have to let myself in? Because I _will_."

No... No, he couldn't possibly do that! He didn't have a key, that much she knew. But what if he'd attacked Adam in the hallway or something, and stolen his key? Oh, God!

She heard a very audible sigh issue from her boyfriend, and then an odd noise she couldn't quite place for a beat. Then, her eyes grew wide as she realized he was somehow unlocking the door! She felt a burst of adrenaline surging through her body and leapt off the bed, her heart hammering so fast in her chest, she felt as though she might pass out. She had to get to the bathroom and hide!

The door clicked open...

Amy let out a short scream as she bolted for the doorway of the bathroom, but she didn't quite make it. A quick glance over her shoulder at Jericho caused her to trip over something - Adam's open suitcase. She tumbled to the floor, pain shooting through her right side. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and saw stars.

"Thought you could get away from me, huh?" Chris demanded, his blue eyes icy cold as he stood bent over her. His hands were on his hips, but Amy noticed something with horror - his right one was covered with blood.

She cringed and tried to back away from him. Small whimpers were emerging from her as she realized he held a credit card in his left hand. That was how he'd done it - he'd broken into the room with a damn credit card!

Jericho smiled cruelly down at her, chilling her blood.

"You can't do it, baby," he said mockingly, his head shaking. Quickly, the smile vanished and was replaced by a look of disgust on his handsome face. "Don't ever think you can escape from me..." He finally reached out for her with his right hand, and she shut her eyes tightly again as she felt his bloody palm strike her across the face in a fierce slap. A small scream that was more of a squeak escaped her.

Chris let out an inhuman snarl and lunged for her again, but suddenly something stopped him. She was expecting the worst, prepared for it, when she suddenly heard another male voice shouting. And then, Jericho was hurled up and away from her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Adam shoving him forcefully back against the wall, his hands gripping the other man's shirt collar.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" the taller blond man shouted. He pulled Chris away from the wall for a split second, only to bash him back into it a second time. Adam's face was filled with fury as he moved it closer to the other man's. "You come near her again, and I will _kill_ you," he said in a deeply menacing whisper - but to Amy's ears, she'd never heard a line more lyrical and beautiful in her entire life.

Jericho winced for the briefest of seconds but then forced his gaze to lock on the taller man's green eyes. A scowl crossed his face, but no verbal response came.

Adam yanked him away from the wall and hurled him toward the door.

"Get the fuck out of my room!" He threw the door open and kicked the shorter man with his size 14. "And remember what I said, you son of a bitch... You come near her again, and I'll make good on my promise..."

Chris glared wordlessly back at Adam from where he now stood just out in the hall. He glanced quickly at his bloody right hand, which he'd clenched into a fist before shifting those icy blue eyes back to the tall blond man. Although a million responses came to mind, he simply shook his head and stormed off.

Adam forcibly shut and then locked the door behind the asshole, a string of curses muttering between his lips. He couldn't believe this, couldn't believe that piece of shit had gotten into his room and gotten at Amy while he'd been just across the hallway in Stacy's room! It told him he had to be by the redhead's side every minute - and by God, if that was what he had to do to keep her safe, that's what he would do. His features softened immeasurably as he turned to see the diva crouched on the floor, terror clearly written on her face, in her hazel eyes. In a haste, he rushed over to her, kneeling by her.

"Oh, God... Baby, are you all right?" he asked, his hands gentle as he rubbed one on her upper back, the other going to her left cheek. There was blood there. Shit...

Amy's breathing was still coming in fast gasps, her eyes finally closing in relief. It felt as though she'd momentarily lost her voice as she grabbed onto the tall blond man's arm with one small hand. She held onto him as though for dear life. If he hadn't shown up when he had... She didn't even want to think about what might have happened.

"Come on, sweetie," Adam said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up..."


	11. Chapter 11

"Fuck! God damn it!" Chris swore.

He tore at his long blond hair, more enraged than he could have thought possible. He couldn't believe that son of a bitch had interfered with his plans.

Shit... He'd had Amy exactly where he wanted her - alone and vulnerable. And also terrified, at his mercy... As though he were about to show her any of that tender quality. He snarled as he thought about it all, about her and Adam. He wondered if she'd spread her legs for him as she'd undoubtedly done for those country bumpkin idiots Matt and Jeff Hardy. And who the fuck was he fooling? Of _course_ she had!

The furious blond man paced as he continued to rage it all out. Currently, he was outside, in the hotel parking garage. After the incident with Amy and Copeland moments earlier, he'd fled to the sanctuary out here. He felt like expending all his angry energy on something... The items in his hotel room would not suffice - especially since he'd already done his fair share of damage there.

And then, slowly, a sadistic grin spread across Chris' face. He knew exactly how to let out his aggressions - and it was the perfect way to get even with that asshole Adam Copeland as well...

... Jericho knew which car was Adam's rental. He'd watched the bastard ever since he'd seen him with the redhead at the arena, before their mixed tag match. He knew exactly which cherry red Toyota Camry the idiot was renting. Damn nice car as well. It was just a fucking shame that something so beautiful would have to be destroyed.

Chris let out an almost bellowing laugh as he realized the irony in his brutal thoughts... That stupid car had a hell of a lot in common with his bitch of a girlfriend.

Glancing around his immediate surroundings, Jericho made certain that he was alone here. Amazingly, the parking garage seemed deserted save for himself. Fantastic... He quickly strolled through the area, his gaze scanning over the ground as well as the parked cars.

He smirked as he found quite a large rock. He was in such good spirits as he went to retrieve it that he was whistling. This was just perfect. And, then, he saw the beautiful red car...

--

Amy's breathing had finally returned to normal. After Adam had taken her into the hotel bathroom, gently cleaning up the blood Chris had left on her, she'd merely sat up on one of the hotel beds. Earlier, she'd been sleeping in the one nearest the window, and somehow, she felt safer there, as it was farther away from the door.

She opened her mouth tentatively, starting to speak. It actually surprised her that her voice wasn't shaking.

"You... you came back just in time," she said. She couldn't even begin to explain just how grateful she was toward the tall blond man. All she could think as she gazed across the bed at him was 'savior.'

"I never should have left you here alone," Adam chastised himself. How very stupid he'd been. Not that he would've given Chris Jericho the credit to be able to break into another person's hotel room - but he told himself he'd never be so careless again.

"It wasn't your fault, Adam," the redhead said firmly. "How could you have known what he was capable of?" It had shocked the hell out of her as well that the other man had gotten in here. It made her seriously wonder why he hadn't tried to get into that bathroom the other night as she'd fled to hide. She shuddered to think about what he might have done had he'd managed to get to her.

Adam noticed her flinch, and his heart went out to her. He had to fight against the urge to cross the meager distance between their respective beds and gather her in his arms and hold her for all she was worth.

However, he held back for now. Not for the first time, he reminded himself that her not trusting him was the last thing he wanted.


	12. Chapter 12

Amy couldn't stop glancing over her shoulder every five seconds. She couldn't help it, couldn't help thinking he would jump out from some shadow and attack her.

"It's okay, you know."

She looked up sharply at Adam, her gaze locking on his bright green orbs. His expression was concerned as he put an arm around her.

Instead of shrinking away from the touch as she normally would have done up until the prior night, the redhead welcomed it. She realized that the tall blond man was nothing like her abusive, violent boyfriend... And how very grateful she was for that.

She kept silent as they continued on through the parking lot. They were leaving for the next city, the next town, and they had to return the sporty red rental car first.

Amy didn't see anything at first due to her head being downcast. At times, she preferred looking at the ground, because she dreaded seeing things coming right at her. She supposed it was a sort of passive aggressive trait she'd developed during her time as Chris' girlfriend.

"Oh, my God!" Adam cried. He stopped in his tracks, his hands coming up to clutch his head as he stared in disbelief at the spectacle before them.

The redhead raised her gaze, instantly taking in the horribly damaged car. The windshield had been completely smashed. The tires had been punctured flat. The side of the once beautiful vehicle had clearly been keyed. It was plain as day that this was all due to an act of vandalism.

"Chris..." she breathed, and she glanced around fearfully. He had to have been the one who had done this... There was nobody else she knew who could be capable of such unabashed, careless violence.

The tall blond man glanced at her as he neared the car. She was probably right - Jericho probably was the culprit. His thoughts rewound to the previous night, when the other man had gotten into his hotel room. They'd had a confrontation and he'd thrown him out. He knew Jericho had been full of rage... And what better and more immediate way to let out all that fury and frustration than to take it out on something beautiful?

He shuddered at those thoughts, however, as he knew just how much they related to Amy. After all, that bastard had taken his anger out on that beautiful woman more than enough times.

"Oh, my God... What if he's nearby? What if he jumps us?" she exclaimed, shaking. Her gaze darted around furtively, and a small, mewling sound began to escape her.

Adam was by her side in an instant. He took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

"No, it's okay... He's long gone after this," he promised. He knew he was right. "Listen to me, Amy - he's _not_ here." He spoke the last two words firmly as he moved his hands from her shoulders to her face.

She kept her gaze on him, her heart slowing in beat. He was right... He had a pont about Chris being most likely long gone. What vandal would stick around to be caught after their senseless act? She nodded and seemed to calm down a bit, although she couldn't help surveying their immediate area for danger.

"Listen... I'm calling the police," the Canadian said. "We'll stay here, wait for them, and then report this to the rental car company. Thank God for insurance." He reached for his cell phone and flipped it open.

Amy glanced around, noticing the small crowd of people that soon gathered. As Adam spoke into his phone, she found herself trying to explain the state of his wrecked rented automobile.


	13. Chapter 13

Chris scowled but then smirked as he spotted them outside the hotel. They were finally arriving, and late due to the little "gift" he had left Copeland.

He lowered the binoculars from his eyes, unable to stifle the small chuckle from emerging from his lips. They were pulling their wheeled bags along, engaged in what appeared to be serious conversation. No doubt, the tall blond man had called the authorities, but they would never do anything. The worst that could happen would be that the rental company would try to issue a fine for the vandalism. Nah... That wouldn't even happen, unless that redheaded bitch gave them his address.

His smile vanished upon that thought. He was angry enough at her as it was... Maybe he should get hold of her - physically, and teach her another lesson. He envisioned getting his large hands on her milky flesh and leaving dark marks on it.

In the middle of such thoughts, Jericho found himself clenching his hands into fists. Yes... If he could get his hands on her again, he'd make what he'd done before look like child's play.

--

As they crossed the medium-sized parking lot en route to the entrance, Amy felt a shudder come over her. She didn't know why at first. But it didn't take long for her to realize she felt as though she were being watched. In moments, she was lagging behind Adam as she craned her neck to peer up at the hotel windows.

The tall blond man abruptly stopped to look back over his shoulder, realizing she was no longer beside him. He'd been asking her whether she'd like to grab a bite to eat, but she hadn't responded. He watched her curiously for a beat before joining her.

"You shouldn't stand here," he said, giving her a small nudge. "This is an active parking lot."

The diva seemed to come back to her senses as she once again walked by his side.

"He's watching us."

"What?" Adam whirled his head her way, knowing full well who she meant, but he hadn't seen or even sensed a thing. And strangely, Amy's voice was so calm, as was her demeanor, at least on the surface.

"He is," she said. "I don't know where he is, but he's in the hotel, somewhere... And I know he's watching us."

Intense anger shot through the Canadian at that thought. He didn't like the idea that Jericho could actually be spying on them, that he could know exactly where they were when they had a clue as to _his_ whereabouts. It seemed unfair, a joke.

Adam remained silent for a full moment, his jaw clenched in a stern manner. He could feel his blood boiling with rage as he glared up at windows on high floors of the hotel, exactly where Amy had been looking moments earlier. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs to the fucker, tell him to stop being such a coward and show himself, but refrained from doing so. He wasn't going to scare the diva anymore than she'd already been spooked by the man she'd called her boyfriend.

"Come on," he said, tightening his grip on the handle of his wheeled suitcase. He gestured to the double automatic doors of the establishment, and Amy nodded. They continued inside and got their room number and keys.

"Here you are," the desk clerk said cheerfully. "Double room with single bed. Checkout time is noon."

Adam and Amy exchanged confused, awkward glances.

"Did you say 'single' bed? We need _two_ beds."

The woman's smile faded at the blond man's words. She glanced quickly at the computer monitor in front of her.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's all we have for you. We're booked for the night."

The two wrestlers again exchanged glances, and Amy bit her lip and bowed her head in embarrassment. Adam hesitated for a moment, about to protest, but changed his mind.

"Thanks," he said with a hint of irritation.

The pair headed up to the room in silence, and the tall Canadian cursed himself inwardly. This couldn't have been a more awkward situation.

"Amy, look," he finally said as they entered the room. Upon quick survey, he noted a sofa in the non-bedroom portion of the room. It wasn't much, but it certainly could do. "I'll take the sofa, and you take the bed."

She stepped inside after him, allowing the door to close behind her. Her eyes immediately scanned the area, and she frowned. There was no way Adam could sleep on that couch, and there was no way she would let him... It was so small! He was a tall man, and there was no physical way he would get any sleep on that thing.

"No."

He turned sharply to meet her eyes, noticing defiance in them to match the single word she'd uttered. Putting up his hands, he protested.

"I'll be fine. You need the bed; you've been through a rough time."

She shook her head.

"Adam, look at me..." She spread her arms and turned in a circle.

The blond man did so... But it wasn't as if he hadn't already been looking at her. She was such a beautiful woman, he hadn't been able to _not_ look at her. Luckily, he'd managed not to stare thus far.

"_I'm_ taking the couch and you're taking the bed."

The Canadian eyed her for a beat, noting the extent of determination on her beautiful face. He knew just as well as he knew his own name that she was not going to take 'no' for an answer. Reluctantly, he sighed and responded.

"Okay... Okay, Amy, you win."


	14. Chapter 14

_He was coming toward her, a strangely surprising smile on his face. It appeared to be plastered on as he neared her still, his crystal blue eyes sparkling. She stared at him, confused, unsure as to what his true motives might be._

Conflicted, she actually started taking a few baby steps in his direction to meet him less than halfway. Should she trust him this time? There seemed not to be any traces of malice on his boyishly handsome face, and, although still uncertain, she didn't see any reason to fear him...

... For once.

His smile blossomed as they neared one another even more, his brilliant, straight white teeth showing. His crystalline orbs shone as he kept his gaze on her. His arms outstretched, and she finally dropped her tentativeness and uncertainty. After all this time, he wanted to hold her in a way in which he hadn't done in so long - far too long. The gesture offered the promise of tenderness and love, fierce affection.

She began running toward him, instantly throwing herself into his awaiting arms. His embrace was strong, warm and made her feel so good, so loved.

"I love you," _she said with contentment as she snuggled against him._

He gave no verbal response to her sweet words.

She pulled back and gazed up into his eyes, a bit of her uncertainty creeping back. And her eyes widened in terror at the look of him. No longer was there any hint of warmth or lovingness in those blue eyes. Now, those orbs were hard, glittering with what seemed to be hatred. His handsome face was now contorted with rage, and she tried to break free.

She couldn't do it... His loose grasp had suddenly tightened to a painful degree.

She shook in his grasp, his strong forearms like steel as he held her firmly in place. But the worst part of all was when, a moment later, he had her in a chokehold.

"How _dare_ you betray me!" _he screamed into her ear._

She winced, but that was short-lived as she struggled against him. He was cutting off her air supply, his meaty forearm like a vise against her windpipe. She couldn't breathe!

She beat at his arm feebly, her legs kicking, but to no avail. She couldn't free herself, couldn't kick him for some reason, couldn't utter a sound, and she was blacking out... Or worse.

She never should have trusted him. She should have known better and run the other way. But no, she'd been foolish... And because of her stupidity, she was going to pay for it with her very life.

Adam tried to gently shake her awake, flinching as she actually kicked him a couple of times. She was in the throes of a horrible dream, and he didn't have to think about who was in it.

"Wake up, Amy! Wake up!" he called to her, gently slapping her cheek.

As the frantic redhead's eyes finally fluttered open, she looked around wildly, her breathing fast. For a moment, the blond man worried she was going to hyperventilate.

"A-Adam?"

"You had a nightmare," the Canadian explained. "Everything is okay. I promise you. You're safe."

Amy sat up on the disheveled couch, her hand pressed to her chest as she tried to calm down. He was right... She was safe. They were in the hotel room they'd gotten the night before, and she was still on that sofa after she'd insisted he take the bed. Her blanket was strewn on the floor, and Adam retrieved it for her, covering her with it from the waist down. She'd probably kicked it off during her bad dream.

"Are you going to be all right for the rest of the night?" The blond man pressed a hand to her face, concern shining in his sleepy green eyes. He'd turned on the hallway light en route to going to her, so they could see each other, but not too much. His face was dominated largely by shadows.

Amy started to nod, swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat. She couldn't find her voice as she pulled the blanket up to her neck. Cold... She was suddenly feeling quite cold.

"Okay," adam said softly, "if you're truly fine, I'm gonna head back to bed." He started to rise from his knelt position, but she reached out and grabbed for his hand.

"What's the matter?"

She stared up at him balefully, then lowered her head, ashamed.

"W-Would you mind if-" She shook her head, relieved that it was dark and he couldn't see how deeply she blushed at the thought she'd just had. "Um... Nevermind."

The blond man didn't go anywhere.

"No... What?" He was staring down at her with anticipation.

The redhead felt more nervous and embarrassed than ever.

"Would it be okay if I slept with you the rest of the night?" she asked. She gazed up at him for a beat, lowering her head again shortly after. Despite the darkness, she could barely look at him.

Adam hesitated for a second. But he knew how jittery she was feeling, and he sensed she probably wouldn't get back to sleep if she stayed out here by herself.

"Sure. Of course it would be okay," he finally answered.

Then, he gently helped her up from the couch and led her to the bed. It was all he could think of moments later as they laid there together. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, hear her soft breathing. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

Amy awakened quite disoriented. She recalled that she'd been sleeping on a couch the prior night, but it didn't feel the same now. No, this felt like an actual bed... On top of that, she suddenly realized, with fright, that she was not alone.

Her eyes now wide open, she scrambled somewhat to the opposite side of the bed, fear coursing through her as she caught sight of the blond hair. Her heart nearly stopped as she stared at it, thinking it belonged to Chris.

She was still slightly disoriented seconds later, until the person beside her stirred and turned over. The redhead let out a breath, finally able to exhale as she realized it was only Adam. And she remembered what had happened in the wee hours earlier.

She had been plagued by horrible dreams, all of which saw Chris getting his hands on her. He always tried to kill her in some form or fashion, though fortunately, she'd always managed to wake up before she'd actually died in the nightmares. Somehow, she'd managed not to make noise during the dreams, though she had moved quite a bit during them. And apparently, she hadn't woken the Canadian up sans the one time when she'd begged to sleep in the bed with him.

Amy's mood softened somewhat as she gazed down at him. The blond man was still asleep, and she thought she must have given him a rough night thanks to her rapid, frequent shifting. She felt slightly guilty for that even though she knew he would insist that it wasn't her fault.

She felt so grateful toward him, more than she could ever even conceive of expressing in mere words. He had insisted on protecting her, helping her, when he didn't have to. He was truly a godsend. She cocked her head as she continued to sit there and gaze down at him, her hand snaking out to cup his stubble-covered cheek. She marveled at the feel of touching his face, a warm and tender feeling overtaking her.

His eyes suddenly snapped open, startling her. In a flash, the jumpy redhead moved her hand away from him, a feeling of mortification gripping her. All of a sudden, she could barely bring herself to look at him.

Adam knew what had just happened but didn't mention a word of it. He studied her with a bit of amusement. She had been stroking his cheek. Was she beginning to experience feelings for him, same as he'd been for her? He didn't want to say or even do anything for the moment, as he didn't want to scare or embarrass her. So, instead, he played dumb and unaware.

"Amy," he murmured, "you're awake."

"Yeah," she replied sheepishly, "I just got up a few minutes ago. I... I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"You didn't."

She remained silent at that but thought he couldn't possibly be telling the truth. Considering how restless she had been all through the night, he had to have gotten a very fitful sleep at best.

She finally found her voice again but completely changed the subject.

"We're supposed to go home today," she said with dismay.

"Yeah," the blond man agreed. He instantly caught the fear in her voice and knew why it was present.

"How can I go back there, Adam? He's still not finished with me, I know it! What if he..." There was a quaver in her tone as she concluded her horrid thought. "... comes to my house!"

Adam sat up and placed his hand gently on one of hers. She was shaking.

"Amy, that won't happen," he insisted. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone there."

"What are you saying, Adam?" There was naked terror in the woman's hazel orbs.

He didn't even have to think about it as he issued his response.

"You can stay with me."

She shook her head with uncertainty. Then, "I don't want to put you through any trouble."

"You won't," he told her. "It's no trouble at all. We'll go to your place first, so you can get some things and then go to Tampa to my house." She appeared on the verge of protesting again as she shook her head, but the tall blond man wouldn't hear of it. "I insist on having you over as my guest. So, what do you say?"

She stared at him in silence for a moment, almost speechless. He was insisting once again on protecting her, this time inviting her to stay at his house. Surely, she would be safer there with him than alone at her own house. Emotion nearly choking her up, she finally nodded and voiced her answer.

"Okay... You've got yourself a house guest." She was to grateful, she wanted to throw her arms around him but refrained from it. All she could think was what would she ever do without this man?


End file.
